


Lunatic

by PaulHeymanGirl



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Blood, F/M, Oral Sex, Sex, werewolf!Dean, wolfbrose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-15
Updated: 2014-12-15
Packaged: 2018-03-01 14:07:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2775815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaulHeymanGirl/pseuds/PaulHeymanGirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The man and the wolf both have needs, and the full moon blurs the line between the two.  But they both have their own ideas of prey.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lunatic

**Author's Note:**

> It started off with a picture of Dean Ambrose and the idea of being put over his shoulder and carried into the woods. Then it went back and forth between raehex and I and ended up being smutty. Surprise, surprise.
> 
> Here you are: some spontaneous Tumblr werewolf porn.

It's already too late.  The full moon's rising and you both lost track of the days somehow and now, well, now he's put you over his shoulder and carried you into the woods.  
  
It’s got to be in the woods because he can’t wait until you can find somewhere inside. He’s just on the edge of where the man and the wolf meet and his control is…not the greatest.  Not to mention he’s less likely to break anything overly valuable if it’s the woods.

And it helps that when he’s in the woods, he’s going to be able to feel the moonlight. Inside, even if the bed is right under the window, it’s never as real as when he’s outside, when the moon’s driving him mad (they call him the “lunatic fringe,” little do they know how accurate the “lunatic” part is). So when he sets you on the ground, standing over you, breath heaving, you can see the light outlining him, throwing all of him into shadows but those bright eyes.

You can just  _see_ him twitching slightly, his muscles tensing, him cracking his neck every now and then, because he does  _not_ want to hurt you, but fuck does he want to make you scream.

And feel your skin under his teeth.

And this could be  _so so so_ dangerous.

"Stand up," he orders. He watches you climb to your feet, slowly and so tentative. He could have taken you right there, but that’s not what he wants right now. Right now you’re not just his lover.  
  
You’re his prey.  
  
"Run," he growls out, a mad smile spreading across his face.

Part of you really does want to run for your life because you’ve always had this fear of the wolf tipping the scale just enough in the wrong way.  
  
But then a part of you just wants to _play along_.  
  
But either way, that adrenaline is pumping and you know it’s probably making you smell all that much more tasty.

You take off, not running at full speed, taking caution as you make your way through the trees. You’re aware of him behind you, even if you can’t hear or see him you know he’s there, know he’s hunting you.  
  
You pause to catch your breath, looking around wildly, your heart beating so loudly in your ears that’s all you can hear.  
  
Even if you could hear, he’s a hunter, he’s built for this. No matter what he would have been able to sneak up on you. You feel his warm breath on your neck and turn around, but he grabs you by the shoulders and forces you up against a tree.  
  
The wicked curve to his lips is still there, the light in his eyes more clear than before. You feel a moment of fear as he lunges for your throat, but it’s replaced with something else as he begins kissing and sucking at your sweat-soaked skin.

But finally, he gives in a bit and starts nibbling at your neck, choosing to move towards you shoulder to gnaw at a bit.  
  
Your legs are getting all weak and shaky, and without him moving away from the crook of your neck, he grabs your legs and just wraps them firmly around him, and that’s when you feel how hard he is, pressing firmly against you.  
  
He moves you away from the tree to nearly throw both you and him on the ground, and the moon’s starting to fog his brain slightly, and he’s trying so hard to not rock against you, but that fails, and that fails very quickly.  
  
He’s not sure if he wants to take you like that, or on all fours, who cares, he just wants inside of you as soon as possible.

He’s nearly ripping at your clothing, his hands curled more like claws as he pulls at your jeans. He pulls his lips back and snarls and you can see his canines have sharpened.  
  
You reach down and undo your own jeans, sliding them down for him. Then you do the same for him, fumbling a bit with his belt at this angle, but eventually freeing him from the confines of his clothing.

Because honestly, it’s in your best interest, because you really like these jeans.  
  
You don’t have that same fortune with your panties, those are torn to shreds.

He’s still fighting to keep control, positioning himself and pressing into you slowly. You can see the toll it’s taking on him, the concentration on his face. He’s fighting his own nature, fighting that same moonlight.  
  
He meets your eyes, sees the look you’re giving him, sees the glint of the moonlight in your eyes.  
  
He snaps his hips, burying himself in you with a wild cry.

It’s all lost from this point. He’s digging those bitten-down nails into your skin, knocking the wind out of your lungs with how roughly he’s fucking into you, your back scraping against the twigs and roots and rocks beneath you.  
  
And he’s naturally a heavy breather anyway, but now it’s more of a low growl, his voice is shot, and he’s only scraping teeth now, too afraid to bite down. Although, your blood would be damn perfect right now.

He forces himself from your shoulder, instead hovering over you, arms braced on either side of your head. His frantic rhythm breaks down further until finally he gives in, giving a final thrust as he comes, at the same time throwing his head back as he howls.  
  
He’s still buried inside of you, shuddering, when he drops back to your shoulder and sinks his teeth into you.

And, god, like, it’s a damn  _relief_ when he bites you because you’re already sore, and you could tell it’s what he’s wanted to do.

But he breaks away from your shoulder again, mouth all bloody, unlocking your legs from around him, creeping down your body.

All the better to eat you with.

The first swipe of his tongue over you makes you shudder. Not just the sensation, but the knowledge that the mix of tastes in his mouth is both of you: his spit, your skin, his cum, your blood.  
  
The second swipe, though, that’s nothing but sweet, hot pleasure running through your entire body.

And you know better than to make any noise, but it’s really hard not to, with how desperately he’s holding you in place, a low growl just rumbling forth as he licks you fucking clean, not stopping until you just let go, he needs to taste it.

He knows your body so well, he knows every little trick that makes you gasp and squirm and scream. Knows them so well that even in this state he can call them up and use them to his advantage.  
  
Until you can’t stand it any more. You come hard over his tongue, he laps at you as you tilt your head back, letting out what starts as a moan but changes, changing easily into a howl.

Of course you do. Because who else could bring out the wolf in you, than another wolf?

When you’ve finished, he crawls up to lay beside you, tongue lapping at your shoulder, one of his sure, strong hands stroking your cheek.  
  
The moon still has her hold, but for now he’s more yours than hers. And you are always his.


End file.
